Made Vulnerable
by Shadow Padawan
Summary: Shane catches Lauren in a vulnerable moment.


Shane's paternal grandmother is buried in Dallas. The last time he had been to her grave was five years ago at the funeral – his father doesn't like graveyards or dwelling on the past much. Shane thinks he must have inherited that dislike for he also has an aversion to death and funerals and cemeteries. The rows of bleak gravestones with their occasional wreaths and bouquets are oppressive, the flowers bright stabs of color, which feel terribly inappropriate.

The cemetery his grandmother is buried in is like that – gravestones, flowers, the occasional mourner in a black dress or dark suit, neatly kept lawns and what feels like invariably gloomy and cloudy skies. The entire place makes Shane want to turn tail and run. He doesn't like thinking about death and the place is like a constant reminder of the inevitable.

After laying the flowers at his grandmother's grave and making sure his father is holding up alright, Shane leaves him alone to say or do whatever he feels he needs to on this mini-anniversary. He wonders off across the rows, counting the number of flowers he finds in each one, wincing at some of the headstones which indicate that the person buried there died as a child or very young person. It's the grave of a five-year-old that makes him shudder and turn back.

As Shane looks around to see where he has ended up, he notices a blonde girl in a dark dress a few feet away. She is standing with her back rigidly straight, staring at the bright yellow and red bouquet of flowers that she had just laid at the gravestone. The skirt of her black dress swoons lightly in the wind. Shane can't see her face behind the curtain of her blonde hair and he feels like he shouldn't distract her, but she seems so fragile and small in the expanse of grass and graves that Shane can't help but approach her.

"Hi."

The girl looks up, startled. Her eyes widen when she sees him – they're presently dry but slightly red at the corners. After a moment, her face registers and Shane nearly takes a step back. "What are you doing here?"

Lauren's expression goes from shocked to derisive. "What do you think I'm doing?" The words are biting but her usual smug tone is reduced to a week protest, chocked up as though there is an invisible rope around her neck.

"Uh…my grandmother is buried here…" Shane is now convinced his initial instinct to not get involved was correct. He does not like the vulnerable look on Lauren's face.

Her expression softens just a fractions, then shutters completely into a blank. "Were you close to her?"

"Sort of? I mostly only saw her during holidays." Shane shrugs. "She made the best pies though. Apple and cranberry."

Lauren looks away and is silent for a long time. Shane reads the gravestone. A woman's name with Lauren's last name… "It's my mother's grave," Lauren says finally, answering the question he hadn't asked.

"I'm sorry."

She gives a small, ironic sort of laugh. "Yea, me too. I was still little when she died – barely eight. I only remember bits and pieces, flashes. I remember her taking me to church and standing up in the front row to video tape my first ballet performance and teaching me to ride a bike. She'd hold the back of it and run with me as I paddled and then let go and I would bike for several yards before falling. She never made pies. Dad says she didn't like cooking much, but I don't remember."

Shane didn't really know what to say. This was more intimate information about Lauren than he had ever thought he would know. "It must have been hard losing her," he blurts out before realizing that that was a stupid and useless thing to say.

Lauren nods slowly. "Yea. I don't really remember the funeral though. It's just a blur in my mind, half blacked out, like my brain tried and failed to erase it. After, for years, I just wished that I could feel that happy again, like when I was a kid. It was just strange to have a mom and then not…"

"Is that why you signed your dad up for Christian Mingle?" It's an insensitive question, but Shane feels like this is where this conversation is going.

Lauren turns and glares at him, but only says, a little bitterly. "I guess. I just wanted to have the same sense of a full family again. I knew it wouldn't be the same because it wouldn't be my mom...but I guess I thought if I couldn't have the real thing, I could just have the next best thing." She pauses, then deigns him with something like a smirk. "Had no idea it would work out as awfully as it did."

"Well where having the next best thing is concerned, I think Amy's mom is ok. You two seem like you would share a lot of interests in common." Shane honestly tries to make that not sound catty.

'We do. She is like my best friend. It's the rest of the package I'm not crazy about."

"We're all very loveable. You'll see eventually."

Lauren grimaces. "Whatever." There's no bite in her voice however and by the squaring off of her shoulders, Shane can tell that she has regained composure and is no longer willing to expose her feelings to him. Well, in the end, Shane is willing to consider keeping someone from falling apart to be a good thing.

"Well, I should go," he says. "You should probably go too; I think it's going to rain."

"It always feels like that in a cemetery," Lauren comments quietly.

Shane smiles a little bitterly. Looks like he is not alone in this view. "My dad's waiting for me. I'll see you around." He turns to go, then stops and looks back. "Are you ok?"

Lauren looks up and meets his eyes. Her expression is still blank, but though he can't quite tell her exact emotions, there is none of the usual hostility in her eyes either. "I'm fine. Thanks."

Shane leaves, in a hurry to find his dad and get out of this gloomy place. In a hurry to forget the nostalgic look on Lauren's face when she had talked about her mother. After all, Lauren Cooper isn't supposed to have a heart.


End file.
